


Power Outage

by kelex



Series: Bean There Done That [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A power outage forces trauma surgeon Hannibal Lecter to patronize the Bean There Done That coffee shop, and meets the barista of his dreams. Only he doesn't know it yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Outage

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of a series.

Hannibal Lecter _loathed_ coffee shops. They were full of rude, base individuals and exceptionally disgusting coffee. Their scones were like cardboard, biscotti like tarpaper rolls, and the baristas incompetent beyond compare.

Bean There, Done That was also the only store within a six block radius of the hospital that had a generator running during the outage. And if he wanted food or coffee before his shift, this is where he was going to have to go. 

Taking a deep breath, Hannibal steeled himself and pushed the door open.

The sheaf of bells on the door made his teeth grit as they jingled, and he briefly imagined himself ripping the things off the frame. Instead, he got in line and expected very little. 

The jingle of the bells made one of the baristas look up. He couldn't tell who'd gotten in line, but he knew somebody had to get the order. "I'll take it," he shouted over the grind and hiss of coffee machines, and picked up a blank order pad and a pencil before sliding under the counter. He looked for order slips, and saw everyone had one except the last man in line. "Hi, can I help you?" 

"Just coffee, if you please. Plain, black, coffee-flavored coffee." Hannibal didn't expect much as he looked over at the barista, and then he paused. The man stood about a head shorter than he, with tousled dark hair that looked like he'd just gotten out of bed. His eyes were shaded behind a pair of plate-glass lenses and horrible black frames, but at least he was smiling. 

"Large black coffee, no flavors, no sugar?" He looked up for confirmation of the order. "Anything to eat? We're running low on cinnamon toast, but we've got some more in the back toaster. Should be ready by the time you get up to the counter." Will was studying his pad very carefully so he didn't have to make eye contact. 

He noticed. "Yes, please. But no cinnamon, if you don't mind. Plain toast will be sufficient." He was noticing everything, from the dull green, short-sleeved waffle-thermal knit Henley shirt to the gray jeans that looked soft enough to touch, the rawhide workboots and the green apron with the coffeehouse logo on the chest. 

"Your name?" Will's voice was strong despite the intense scrutiny, and the pencil was poised to put name to order. 

"Hannibal Lecter," came the answer, and he was prepared to spell it. 

"Hannibal like the general, and is Lecter with an **o** or an **e**?"

Hannibal was impressed despite himself. "E." 

Will tore the carbon off and handed it to Hannibal. "When they call your name, just give this to the cashier and we'll take care of you." The bells rang again, and Will grinned widely. "Hey, Freddie! Same?" 

"Yes, please." 

Hannibal nearly turned to stare, just to see who won the batista's attention. But staring would be rude. However, patience paid off when Freddie swept past in a cloud of red hair and cheap perfume to raid the newspaper rack. 

The woman got back in line behind Hannibal, and he pondered how desperate for coffee he had to be to venture in here. 

Two voices rang out at once. "Hannibal Lecter!"

"Freddie Lounds!"

"'Scuse me!" Freddie pushed past Hannibal when her name was called, and Hannibal merely followed in the wake of her rudeness. He couldn't believe people were moving aside for both of them.

"Hannibal!" Will was standing to the side, holding a large styrofoam cup with steam wafting up from the lid, and a small foam box. "Here, large black coffee, no sugar, no flavor, and plain toast, butter on the side." He gave Hannibal the coffee, and opened the toast box to show six pats of butter wrapped in wax paper. "Had a feeling you'd rather butter your own toast."

"Why yes, I would, thank you." Hannibal was surprised; he wasn't aware that he'd given off that sort of vibe, but he was glad Will had picked up on it. 

"Will!" Freddie pushed up to the counter. "Brian said you've got the blackberry hoarded under the counter, can I pleeeeeeeease have a pack for my bagel?"

"Yeah, no problem!" Will reached under the counter and came out with two round tubs of blackberry jelly, and handed them both over. "You owe me, Freddie." 

"Whenever and wherever you want, Mister Graham." Freddie swung her feet up off the floor as she leaned over the counter, giving Will a peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow morning!"

Hannibal had stepped aside for the redhead, but now stepped back to the register. "Interesting way of tipping your establishment has."

Will laughed. "Six twenty-five, and that wasn't a tip. Freddie's my girlfriend."

"Ah." Hannibal withdrew his wallet and gazed in its depths. He saw red for a long instant, and then it coalesced back into the pile of green and white bills that lived in there. He extracted a twenty, and gave it to Will. "Please consider the change your tip, then, as I'm fresh out of kisses."

Will's eyes widened just a tad. A tip twice the size of the entire bill? That was unexpected. "Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely. How else should you be expected to remember me? I shall see you tomorrow morning, approximately at the same time." Hannibal took a sip of the hot coffee, pleased by the strength. Not quite strong enough to tar a pothole with, but close enough. 

"And if the power comes back?" Will asked knowingly.

"Then you shall see me all the same. Good day, Mister Graham."

"Will," he called out after the departing customer. "Good day, Mr. Lecter!"

"Doctor," floated back over the man's shoulder. "Doctor Lecter."

Will watched as Doctor Lecter walked out of the shop, and shook his head, pocketing his tip. Funny thing is, he had a feeling he'd have remembered Doctor Hannibal Lecter even without the extravagance. 

He couldn't wait to come in tomorrow.


End file.
